Why I Don't Do Self-Care, and Why You Shouldn't Either.

If you Google the term self-care, you'll receive over 4 billion results. It’s everywhere—on social media, in wellness magazines, therapy sessions, and lifestyle blogs. It seems to be positioned as the cure-all for almost every ailment: anxiety, burnout, depression, exhaustion, and so much more.

But if you ask someone who is truly exhausted, burned out, anxious, or depressed whether adding more self-care has helped, they might look at you like you’ve just asked them to run a marathon with no training. It might take everything they have to not smack you.

That’s because for many people hurting deeply, self-care can quickly become another task on an already overwhelming to-do list. When you’re struggling with your nervous system constantly in fight, flight, or freeze, the idea of “taking care of yourself” can feel exhausting, like yet another expectation you’re failing to meet. It can feel like yet another way the Inner Critic shows up, whispering, “See? You can’t even take care of yourself.”

This is why it’s so important to reframe what we mean when we say self-care—and more importantly, why we practice it.

To me, the phrase self-care means something much deeper and more profound than face masks or bubble baths.

It means: I care about myself.

Pause for a moment and think about someone you care for deeply. It could be your partner, your child, a parent, or even a beloved pet. How do you show up for them? How do you care for them? How do you demonstrate your love?

Chances are, it’s not by forcing them to hit the gym at 5 AM. It’s not by making them do something they don’t want to do. It’s not by piling expectations on them or pushing them beyond their limits.

Caring for others looks more like the small, everyday acts of kindness and respect. It’s how you talk to them—with gentleness and patience. It’s prioritizing their needs without judgment. It’s preparing healthy meals, helping them rest, cleaning their clothes, or listening to their worries. It’s honoring their feelings, advocating for them, and creating safety for them to be exactly who they are.

Here’s a trick I use to deepen my self-care: I think of my Inner Child as if she were my own daughter.

I ask myself, How would I care for my daughter?

I’d go to the grocery store to buy fresh, nourishing food. I’d cook meals from scratch and encourage her to eat well. I’d speak kindly, take her outside to run and play, and make sure she wears comfortable, warm clothes. I’d remind her to brush her teeth and floss regularly (yes, even flossing is part of self-care!). If she was tired, I wouldn’t shame her into doing something she didn’t want to do—I’d listen to her, explore her feelings, and encourage her to rest. If she was upset, I wouldn’t ignore her emotions or tell her to “get over it.” I’d hold space for her pain and ask, What’s wrong? Because I care.

That’s what self-care is: showing yourself you are worthy of care and compassion.

From a therapeutic perspective, especially in somatic therapy and trauma therapy, self-care is about more than just doing nice things for yourself. It’s about tuning into your body’s signals—your nervous system’s messages—and responding with kindness and safety. When our nervous system is dysregulated, whether from trauma or chronic stress, it can be hard to hear what we truly need. Parts of us—like the Inner Child—may feel overwhelmed, scared, or shut down.

This is where parts work comes in: a therapeutic approach that helps us listen to and heal the different parts of ourselves—especially the vulnerable ones who carry pain, fear, and unmet needs. When we respond to our Inner Child as a loving Adult Self, we create new neural pathways in the nervous system that promote safety, calm, and healing.

When we practice self-care as a form of nervous system regulation, we’re no longer forcing ourselves to perform or fix everything. Instead, we’re learning to slow down, tune in, and meet ourselves where we are. This kind of care honors our whole self—mind, body, and spirit—and makes space for real healing.

When we feel low or depleted, it’s often because we’ve unconsciously shown ourselves that we don’t matter. We silence our feelings, ignore our boundaries, and neglect our health. But would you ever tell your child they don’t matter? I didn’t think so.

So here’s the invitation: how might your relationship with yourself shift if you stop thinking about self-care as a task and start living it as a deep expression of care and compassion?

What if you saw self-care not as something you have to do, but as a way to say I’m worth this kindness—even when you’re tired, anxious, or overwhelmed?

Give yourself permission to rest, to listen to your nervous system, and to tend to your Inner Child with gentleness and love. When you do, you create a foundation for healing trauma, calming anxiety, and moving toward a life where you feel truly seen, safe, and whole.